


The Pain of Delight

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: During Canon, Kinks, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-19
Updated: 2006-11-19
Packaged: 2018-09-03 06:50:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8701711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: They're snowbound and decide to play.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title:** The Pain of Delight  
**Author:** merepersiflage  
**Pairings:** Sam/Dean  
**Rating:** 18+  
**Category:** kinky PWP  
**Word Count:** 2770  
**Summary:** They’re snowbound and decide to play.  
**Warnings:** incest, graphic m/m sex, language, sex toys, kink (light S&M)  
**Disclaimer:** Oh yeah.  
**Notes:** Happy Birthday, Wendy!  
  
  
  
The snow was piled up as high as the window frame, but Sam was thinking that he liked his survival chances on the road with Dean behind the wheel rather than in this room with Dean caged up for another day. His brother had cleaned, sharpened or otherwise reworked every weapon in the trunk. If he started folding his underwear, Sam was getting in the car before it got really ugly.   
  
“Hey, Sam?”   
  
Sam tensed. Dean hadn’t done much but snap at him since he realized there was no way to get coffee this morning.   
  
Sam refrained from pointing out that he really didn’t have to call him by name. There really wasn’t anyone else he could possibly be speaking to.   
  
“You want to . . . uh . . . play?”  
  
Sam didn’t get his meaning for a minute and he almost blurted _play what?_ before his brain caught up. Play. Play _hard_ like they’d done a couple of times. Just the realization kicking in was enough to make Sam’s cock pulse as the blood filled it. Without even thinking about it, the muscles in his ass tightened.   
  
“That bored, huh?”  
  
“Eh, if you don’t want to—”  
  
“I didn’t say that.”  
  
He knew this freaked Dean out a little, hell it freaked him out a little, but it didn’t stop him taking it, asking for it, shooting his fucking soul out through his dick because it released something so deep inside him, that need he’d never known he’d had.   
  
Dean had asked him why last time, why he liked it. Sam couldn’t really explain, just that it made his brain shut off until all he could do was feel, that he liked going as far as they could, that it just felt good to trust Dean to know when to stop. Dean had grunted at that, but hadn’t asked anything else.   
  
He watched Dean for a minute. His brother was balancing his weight like he was about to fight, his chin in that ready-for-anything tilt. He nodded. Dean let out a breath.   
  
Dean jerked his chin at the bed. “Then let’s go. Now.”  
  
Sam stripped, his breaths getting faster as his cock got harder. He wouldn’t let his too busy brain focus on how weird this got. Especially since this time he hadn’t given Dean an excuse. But to crawl naked onto the bed, tipping his ass up for Dean to beat, yeah, that got a little embarrassing when he stopped to think about it. So he wouldn’t.   
  
The air in the room was cold, brushing against his skin as he listened to Dean move around the room. Dean knew damn well what anticipation could do. Sam’s pulse pounded and throbbed in his dick. His belt? His hand? That paddle? He’d seen it in Dean’s bag once, seen the silver grommets set into the one side. He felt his cock leak thinking about how those rings would feel smacking into him.   
  
The air whooshed around him and he braced for a blow, but it was just Dean, landing on the bed. They bounced. And then Dean’s hand was sliding around to grab at his dick.   
  
“Damn, you’re easy.” Dean’s breath huffed warmth against his side.  
  
“Look who’s talking.” Sam shifted his thigh where he could feel Dean’s erection poking him.   
  
“What can I say? I like the view.”  
  
Dean’s hand stopped teasing his cock. And then his fingers were teasing him, slick and cold, sliding just enough inside to make him want more, and then they were gone, replaced by something colder, thicker.   
  
Dean had shown him the dildo he’d bought, shown him and then hadn’t used it, letting him wonder what it would feel like inside him. He remembered it now, hard, harder than a real dick, but shaped just like one, if your average dick was translucent red and ten by two.   
  
He wasn’t going to be able to . . . his breath came rushing out as the first inch slid inside. Dean left it there, stroking a finger down his spine, before tapping against the base of the dildo and making sparks fire along Sam’s nerves.   
  
“Want me to take it out?”  
  
Sam shook his head, and Dean pressed it forward again.   
  
He tapped the end. “You know, with my paddle we could play hammer and nails. Guess who gets to be the board?”  
  
The thought of Dean hitting him while that dildo pushed in with a tearing stretch made him gasp. Dean rocked the dildo back out a little and it slid forward more easily.   
  
Sam tried to relax, knew the burn would ease into pleasure but it was hard to convince his body of that when Dean was forcing that stretch on him just fast and hard enough to push him to breaking. He could tell him to slow down, tell him to wait, and Dean would, but that wasn’t what this game was about. They played so he could feel this, know that Dean wanted to give him this searing brand of possession until his eyes watered and he had to bite his lip to keep his body’s protest silent.   
  
Dean fucked him quickly and then slow and deep with a pinpoint control even Dean at his best couldn’t manage when his dick was involved. He teased Sam with a constant shift of angle, wiggles and just when the pressure eased enough for Sam to take a deep breath, he slammed the dildo all the way in. Sam’s body rebelled again, clamping down tight on the spearing intrusion.   
  
“That’s it. Hold it. Roll over and don’t let it move.”  
  
Sam didn’t think his body was going to relax enough to make losing the dildo a problem, until he realized why Dean had wanted him to roll over.   
  
His brother pulled his cock into his mouth. No teasing, no warning, just a hot, wet suck and it was all he could do to keep his hips on the mattress.   
  
Dean lifted his head to ask, “Still got it?”  
  
“Uh.” He could feel his muscles relaxing as Dean’s tongue curled and teased a counterpoint to the wet slide of his lips. He felt that hard length inside him shift, and he tightened his muscles.   
  
Dean moaned around his cock, the vibration echoing through him, down into that thick stretch and he felt the dildo shift again.   
  
“Roll back over. And keep it in.”  
  
Sam managed, just barely, every movement of his legs and hips made it jerk and twist and slide around.   
  
“Now. Don’t let it fall out and we’ll both get to come.”  
  
Dean straddled him, pressing his dick right at the top of his ass.   
  
“Want _you_ ,” Sam managed to spit out between gasps. “Inside.”  
  
“Later.” Dean pressed in. “If it comes out, you’re gonna be sorry.”  
  
As soon as Dean started grinding against him, he knew he’d set him up. There was no way with Dean pushing on him like that to keep that dildo in, not when every one of Dean’s grinding thrusts pushed it out. God, and whatever Dean had in mind to make him sorry was going to be ten times worse because he was going to come now, with Dean panting in his ear, the motion of his hips rubbing his dick against the sheet, the dildo fucking him as he fought to hold it in.   
  
Dean rocked them harder and the dildo slipped free.   
  
“Uh oh.” Dean stopped and rolled off him.   
  
“That wasn’t fair.”   
  
“Fair? I’d say it’s fairer than you doing something stupid till we get here.” Dean’s hand cracked down on his ass. “Safer. And certainly more fun.” He smacked him again. “It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”  
  
He couldn’t deny the way his skin tingled under those blows, the way his cock and balls just got heavier.   
  
Dean laid into him with a quick volley, giving Sam no time to breathe between the hard slaps of his palm on his ass. Then he was up and off the bed, leaving Sam gasping and so fucking hard he thought it would snap off.   
  
When he felt Dean get back on the bed, Sam pushed up to his knees. “C’mon up here.” Dean was sitting with his back against the headboard, legs stretched in front of him.   
  
He crawled up next to him, and Dean pulled his head forward. His mouth flooded as he thought of Dean’s cock sliding past his lips, but he was kind of disappointed Dean hadn’t wanted to put him across his lap. The thought of being that vulnerable, that childish, made him squirm in embarrassment even though he knew he’d come on Dean’s thighs after the first few strokes. But Dean was pulling his head down into his lap and Sam didn’t need much more direction, he opened his mouth around his brother’s cock.   
  
He started with slow licks, soft and wet, and Dean rewarded him with a soothing rub on his sore ass. He was busy lapping around the base when Dean’s finger slid inside his ass. The rim was tender from the fucking earlier, but Dean immediately stretched and stroked until he was rubbing his prostate and Sam groaned into Dean’s dick.   
  
He licked his way back up, his ribs jerking under the force of his breaths as Dean kept up that blinding pressure. He was working his tongue on the underside of his crown, mouth soft around the head when Dean’s finger slid out and he felt the warning rush of air just before heat and pain burst across his ass. The sound followed an instant later: the crisp snap of leather. Sam almost choked on the dick in his mouth.   
  
“Careful.”   
  
_You be careful_ Sam wanted to snap back, but he was too busy. Dean’s hand was rubbing the pain away again, and Sam worked to take Dean deeper into his mouth.   
  
He was expecting the slap this time, but it didn’t stop him almost gagging as his body reacted.   
  
“That’s it, Sammy.” Dean’s hand returned, soothing and caressing before sliding a finger inside him and curling and teasing.   
  
He bobbed on Dean’s dick, ready for it now. The finger was gone and five hard cracks with the paddle followed. He managed to keep his jaw relaxed, but each stroke pushed Dean’s cock against the back of his throat until he was choking.   
  
“C’mon, Sam, concentrate.”   
  
He was torn between being pissed off at the humor in his brother’s voice and desperate to try to earn the reward of a soft touch or the sweet rub of his finger inside. But the paddle crashed down again and he knew it was impossible but he could swear he could feel the pressure of those rings, a cooler, harder snap against his skin. The paddle came against him so hard it was practically embedded in his skin and Dean had to pry it free for the next blow. He licked and sucked, not trying to take him deep now, just trying to breathe.   
  
Dean threaded his fingers through his brother’s hair and pulled him off. They both hung there, fighting for air, and then Dean pulled Sam’s mouth up until he could kiss him, taste him, taste them, feel the swelling in his brother’s lips and lick the whimpers out of his throat.   
  
He let go of Sam’s hair and shifted them, pushing Sam forward onto his belly, head at the foot of the bed. The bedside lamp showed a pattern of welts, pink and white flesh from the ringed side of the paddle. He swept his hand over it, and Sam arched back into the touch. The bumps against his palm made his dick leak even as his stomach tightened.   
  
How could he—  
  
“S’all right, Dean.” Sam arched into his hand again, even though those bruises had to be stinging at the lightest touch.   
  
He remembered what Sam had said last time _I like feeling I can trust you to know when to stop._ What if he didn’t? What if Sam didn’t stop him? It was one thing to do this because Sam liked it; it was another to actually enjoy it. What kind of a sick bastard was he? He hadn’t been angry, hadn’t been afraid. He’d just wanted this, wanted to feel Sam lose control as he jerked with each stroke of that paddle.   
  
Sam reached for his hand and dragged it to his cock. “I swear to god, man, if you freak out and leave me hanging I’m going to take that paddle to your dick.”  
  
And he could catch his breath again. Because it was still them. Still Sam. Still Dean.   
  
“You think so? Just try it.” He swung over him straddling him as he had before.   
  
“I can totally take you. And you’ve gotta sleep sometime.”  
  
He heard Sam’s breath hiss out as his dick rubbed over the swelling bumps and circles dotting his ass, but he knew he didn’t have to ask if it was all right. Sam ground up into him, leaving just enough space for Dean to work his cock under their hips.   
  
He rubbed all around, his dick sliding in sweat and precome until Sam’s voice broke on a moan.   
  
“C’mon. Fucking get in me. Now.”   
  
He felt blindly around on the pillows for the lube, his fingers slipping on it twice before he managed to grab it. The way Sam was bucking up into him almost made him drop it again, but he finally had himself slicked up and ready. There was no resistance, just a nice tight heat until he was balls deep and choking on a moan.   
  
Sam’s sigh sounded like he’d just managed to rub the tension out of a sore muscle and Dean felt a little inadequate. He made up his mind to save the dildo for special occasions. Sam’s muscles tightened around him and then he wasn’t thinking about that dildo anymore. He was arching his back and snapping forward into his brother, Sam matching his rhythm as he felt his hips hit that hot flesh again and again. Sam wasn’t sighing now.   
  
Sam peeled his hand off his dick and brought to his ass pressed his hand down into that burning tight skin and groaned. Dean didn’t need to be told twice. He dug both his hands in, rubbing and pressing on the welts until Sam fucked back into him faster and faster.   
  
He watched Sam’s shoulders, knew when that shaking curve meant he was close, so fucking close to the edge and let himself rush toward that explosion. Sam’s voice started breaking across octaves like he was thirteen again, splintering around _yespleasenow_ and Dean felt those muscles ripple along every inch of him as he burst inside Sam, shooting again and again until he was convinced he’d pumped more than just come, because going that long had to mean blood loss.   
  
He rolled over onto his side, dragging Sam with him. He reached down to feel Sam’s stomach, because he was never going to stoop so low as to have to ask “Didja come?” and the slippery coating made his body relax just that much more.   
  
“With an expected accumulation of up to three feet before it’s all over, folks.” His brain tuned into the weatherman on the tv. “I-25 is still closed north of Fort Collins. I’m afraid I don’t have any time table on when it might reopen.”  
  
“Guess we’re still gonna be here a while.” Sam said.   
  
“Uh.” Which meant he could fall asleep right the fuck now. They weren’t going anywhere today. There wasn’t any coffee and there wasn’t much to eat. Sleep would solve both of those problems. He tried to fling a blanket over them.   
  
“Dean.”   
  
And it would also solve the problem of post-coital Sam talking. But he hadn’t been quick enough.   
  
“If it really bothers you to . . . we don’t have to.”   
  
“Dude, I just came so hard I think I did permanent brain damage. Can we not have this conversation now? ‘Sides, I think that answers that question.”  
  
“Dean.”  
  
“What?” And if Sam had half a brain the crankiness in his voice would have made him shut the hell up.   
  
“I’m hungry.”  
  
“Okay.” He yawned. “Gimme about fifteen and you can suck on my dick all you want, Sammy, ‘cause that’s about all we got here.”  
  
Sam elbowed him in the ribs. “Fucker.”   
  
“Or we can do that again.”  
 


End file.
